


Just Dandy

by WhiskeySoda



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, District 9 AU, Enemas, Lace Panties, M/M, OT9 - Freeform, Orgasm Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Polyamory, Porn with Feelings, Switching, Top Seungmin, explicit but not nasty enema scene
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-26
Updated: 2018-08-26
Packaged: 2019-07-02 22:50:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15806154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiskeySoda/pseuds/WhiskeySoda
Summary: Seungmin’s fooled around enough that he feels like he knows what he’s doing, but Minho makes him feel like a stuttering virgin. Minho reminds him, without even realizing that he's doing it, that he’s not too far away from it.





	Just Dandy

**Author's Note:**

> Obligatory notes: AO3 won't take my work down, it's not against TOS. If you say derogatory things to me as a human, I will report the comment. If I ask you to stop commenting, I will report the comment. To my knowledge, AO3 has taken action against individuals commenting on my fics in the past, so be mindful of that. 
> 
> If you wish to skip the enema scene, it begins with, "He can’t believe that he let Minho talk him into this. " and ends with "good boy." This story takes place in my district 9 MV au. Past reading of my fics will help make things make sense, but not required to enjoy.

Minho’s mother told him long ago upon this very stoop that bad nights led to better days. Well, as far as he’s concerned, he deserves the best day ever.

 Momo had trouble with one of her clients, and Minho had to run in, dick out and haul him out of her room and into the street. That was at nine, when those who walked the city during the day had barely gone to bed, and those that walked the city at night had barely woken.

Through the course of the night, Minho had three clients. The first of which smelled as if he hadn’t bathed in weeks, the second of which couldn’t get hard and cried upon his shoulder, and the last of which drank far too much and would not leave until he had breakfast. This meant that Minho’s bad night spilled into the morning, so it’s almost the afternoon by the time he’s able to lie down.

But its hard to believe that bad nights turn into good days, even when there’s a knock at his door no sooner than his head hits the pillow. When he opens the door, his own sleepless  and disheveled look contrasts sharply to the sight of Seungmin all smile and sunshine standing in his doorway.

Today, Seungmin wears his old school uniform jacket, and a tie that Minho gave him. He remembers the gunmetal blue medallion being left in his room after work one night. Between his fingers are a few dasies plucked from Chan’s hydroponic room. A single stem of clover jammed into his lapel button. “Minho-hyung!” Followed by a slight bow at the waist.

Minho isn’t wholly convinced that bad nights turn into better days, but if anyone could bring about such a change, it would be Seungmin. Plus, he’s never one to turn down a gentleman caller.

* * *

“You cannot,” but Minho clears out the bread plate he’d loaded up with dumplings away from him and replaces it with a plate of rich fatty pork belly. It’s not only an invitation to stay, but an invitation to keep coming back. “Keep showing up like this.”

The tip of Seungmin’s chopsticks transfer seamlessly from the dumplings to the pork belly. Before he’s even done chewing the final dumpling, he’s shoveling a piece of meat into his mouth.

“It upsets the girls.”

“I’ve not come in a _long_ time,” Seungmin finally speaks when he’s done chewing. He picks up the next piece of meat slowly, carefully, as if his initial hunger were sated and he can finally _taste_ the food now that he isn’t so starved. “Plus, they like me.”

They in fact, do very much doting upon him as if he were family. When Minho goes back to base, there are packages of candy and stationary marked for Seungmin.

 Bad nights may lead to better days, but maybe Minho’s not ready yet. Seungmin has come to politely ask him to dance, but the stain of the night has ruined his very best shirt, and he doesn’t want to go out at all.

“It’s not just about you.” Minho responds, sitting at the chair opposite Seungmin at the tall stainless-steel prep counter in the shining, industrial kitchen. “They’re still pissed off about that time Jeongin ripped the door to my room off.” He’d never deny them, but he can’t help but feel someday they’ll push too far, and he won’t even have the chance to help. All he’s asking for is a shred of discretion, instead of what he gets. Seungmin knocking on the door to the locked lounge with a freshly plucked daisy between his fingers.

“Last week, Chan came here for help after a mission. Girls let him into the foyer and he passed out as soon as he got in the door, we’re lucky we didn’t have many clients. Not to mention,” Minho interrupts himself to steal a small piece of meat from the plate, and when he gets a piece, he’s surprised Seungmin doesn’t snarl at him. “Hyunjin has absolutely no problem coming here at night, when I _work,”_ he says with emphasis. “Looking for food or a place to charge his battery pack.”

“I’m sorry if I’m bothering you,” Seungmin places his chopsticks neatly on the ledge of the plate, and rises from the stool. The legs scrape against tile, and with the sound, Minho’s throat tightens. “I just think you’re the only person I can ask.”

Whether it’s the way that Seungmin’s expression changes, eyelids drooping, constant smile ironed flat, or the tone of his voice, desperate and vulnerable, Minho knows that he’s done the wrong thing. “Ask me what?”

When Seungmin doesn’t sit down again, Minho reaches for the heavy artillery. He walks past the deep welled double sink, and the enormous range that burps blue flame hell fire, and over to the pantry shelf. Minho extracts a single glass jar and places it back on the table.

 Seungmin views its contents and sits back down.

Minho watches Seungmin as he slowly screws the lid of the cannister open, extracts a multicolored, Pollock patterned lollypop, twist at the wrapper and lick it tentatively.  

Anyone else would argue with him, that candy wasn’t a true apology. For Seungmin, it seems to be a start. “Changbin asked me out again. To the old planetarium.” Seungmin doesn’t say anything else. Simply pops the candy into his mouth.

The implication, along with the way Seungmin hollows his cheeks, makes Minho’s mouth feel dry.

It’s difficult to see the sky through the smog, especially at night when light pollution poisons the starry horizon. A long time ago. A long, long time ago, planetariums came into fashion. Even if just for an hour, you could look at the sky unaltered. 

His parents met at a planetarium. That’s how dated they are. But, no one cares much for them now.

The abandoned planetarium on the outskirts of the city, not far from their base in the ninth district, has become their playground. They not only show images of the night sky, but run old reels of laser shows. Changbin patches in movies to broadcast on the dome, and they become encircled by old cartoons upon the ceiling. One time, he even played porn.

When it isn’t a group activity, when it’s just two, or three, or four, it becomes a great, almost romantic place to fuck.

He has a general idea of what he’s about to be asked. The other boys have asked Minho before, and as their cooler older brother, highly skilled in carnal affairs, he’s glad to oblige. “Seungmin?” Underneath the table, Minho’s bare foot collides with Seungmin’s ankle.  It doesn’t matter how long he lives deep below the city in a base with spotty generator and musty air. He still wears his silk dress socks when he goes out no matter how many times Chan darns them. “What do you need from me?”

It starts at the crest of his cheek bones and crests outward in all directions, like a pebble causing a ripple. A lovely crimson blush fans out on his skin rising up past his eyebrows, and down past the neckline of his shirt. “We’re probably going to-“ Seungmin’s voice hitches. Not because he can’t talk about fucking, but because he can’t talk about fucking when he’s come a calling, daisy stem crushed in his fist and slacks in desperate need of ironing. “Have-try to-try to have-“ stutters for a moment, and then the dam of words is broken and spills out quickly. “Try to have sex again, but every time we try it really hurts.”

“Why don’t you-“If variety is the spice of life, switch it up when it doesn’t work the first time.

Plus, Changbin loves to just lay there like the princess he is.

Seungmin cuts him off, as if he anticipated the follow up and doesn’t want to hear it. So, he simply charges forward. “We do it like that sometimes, but _I_ ,” and something catches in his voice. Something scraped and vulnerable, he wanted to show it to Minho so badly, even if he claimed to want to hide it. “Want to do it that way.” And no sooner than Seungmin’s finished, hard candy clinks against teeth as he puts the lollypop back into his mouth.

Minho’s suddenly, painfully aware that he’s not slept yet. His face must be puffy, he can’t even be certain that he took the time to clean off his makeup from last night. But Seungmin is here, looking just dandy. Not to mention, Seungmin has asked a most precious favor of him.

So, Minho rises from the table, this time the chair legs dragging against the floor aren’t quite so severe. He extends his hand to Seungmin, “let’s go to my room, dandy boy.”

* * *

Minho turns the shower heat up high, and in no time at all steam curls around their bodies and pulls them together. Seungmin’s eyes are wide and greedy upon entering the bathroom in Minho’s suite. After all, a large shower head with continuous pressure and temperature is certainly better than the long row of communal showers at base.

It takes Minho a few minutes to formulate a plan. Normally if a boy has this kind of problem? Get him something better than spit and determination. But here’s the thing. He _knows_ that Changbin knows what he’s doing. Changbin likes to remind Minho of this any time they’re together by making a circling motion with his hips and sticking his tongue out at Minho when he’s balls deep inside of him.

When the body is pliant, but the mind rigid…Well, that’s a bit more complicated.

“I’ll get you ready for your date. You just need some good product in your hair to build confidence.”

Seungmin swallows thickly, mouth still sticky from candy. Minho watches the way that his Adam’s apple bobs up and down his throat, and goddamn, Changbin’s a lucky bastard. “I think you’re right.” And just like that the apprehensive expression on his face is wiped away with another smile that’s too innocent given the circumstance and setting.

They shed their clothes separately and step into the steaming spray together. “Not too hot?” Minho slots his body behind Seungmin’s, hand on his hip, the other reaches over him for shampoo.

Seungmin’s body tense at first, and then relaxes against Minho. “Yeah, it’s fine.”

Minho wets Seungmin’s hair, and threads his fingers through his dense strands trying to get every bit of his hair wet. “Still so soft, even though I know you boys don’t condition.”

The shampoo that Minho applies is his favorite. It smells earthy and clean at the same time, and distinct from the flowery, oversweet scents that the girls wear. Seungmin’s thick hair absorbs all of it, and he has to reapply.

“I put vinegar in it, no one’s any the wiser,” Seungmin confesses.

“Smart, boy” Minho whispers into his ear, and of course he notices the way that Seungmin shivers against his touch. He notices, but he doesn’t act yet. Instead, he focuses his attention on Seungmin’s hair, rubbing his short-clipped nails across the other boy’s scalp. The tips of his fingers glide against Seungmin’s skin as he tenderly rubs the place where neck meets head. It takes absolutely no time at all for Seungmin to sigh into his touch, and he’d bet everything in his jewelry safe right now that Seungmin’s hard.

“Thank you,” Seungmin says breathily. “For doing this for me.”

He could say that despite his earlier annoyance, Seungmin is doing him a favor. He’ll jump at the chance to do something before Changbin, and slyly hint about what he’s done. Not to mention, he takes quite a great deal of satisfaction when they come to him for things like this.

“Of course,” Minho responds. “Feels good?”

“It’s nice,” Seungmin all but hums.

“Can you get me the,” he gestures to the showerhead, detachable and on a long hose.

“Sure,” and Seungmin’s long arms reach upward.

The warm water that rains down on them is gone, and in its place a cool draft wafts over Minho’s body. Despite the cold, Minho diligently rinses Seungmin’s hair until every last bit of soap suds are washed from his hair.

“You can put this back now.”

Minho begins to wash the rest of Seungmin’s body in expensive soaps that smelled of rosemary, and peppermint, and tea tree oil. When Seungmin turns around, Minho’s suspicions are confirmed. He’s aching hard. Poor baby.

Minho’s fingers slide across satin soft skin, and he takes the time to notice every hitch of Seungmin’s breath, and every rise and fall of his chest. Minho can’t help himself. His hands move for Seungmin’s cock, and Seungmin’s eyes become wide in the _caught in the spotlight_ way that only boys without experience can look.

Seungmin takes the bait, and Minho gets him on the fake bout, pinching his nipple and ruining the moment.

But it’s not about a moment, it’s about feeling comfortable.

The scuffle that erupts in the shower is nothing but chaos contained by glass walls. Seungmin reaches for Minho, and Minho dodges. It sends bottles of beauty products flying from the ledge. Seungmin lands a slap on his ass, and Minho goes for his sides. Somehow through it all, their bodies are pressed together and then they’re kissing each other long and slow.

Like they’re boyfriends or something, and they do this all of the time.

Seungmin’s lips are incredibly soft. His kisses, cloying, much like his demeanor. Minho, much like a cat that’s caught his mouse, but isn’t yet ready for the kill, toys with Seungmin. Biting Seungmin’s lower lip until it’s plump between his teeth, Minho devours the moans that spill from Seungmin’s mouth because they are sweeter than any confectionary.

Minho gets him pinned against the glass wall of the shower, and god he’d give the world just to see Seungmin’s ass pressed against the glass. But the teeth-clink, lip bump, kisses are a prize in their own right.

When they part, Seungmin’s wet hair is matted to his face. Spray from the shower hits them just right, so it makes it hard for him to keep his eyes open.

Perhaps this is when Minho likes it best. His partner is, disoriented, and so trusting of him. Minho knows that he’s about to make it good. “If you want, there’s something else we can do, so you feel clean.”

* * *

He can’t believe that he let Minho talk him into this. Scratch that. Minho didn’t do any convincing, didn’t need to. He simply pulled another metallic hose from near the faucet that was attached to the shower head. Upon this hose was a long, thin, metallic wand.

Seungmin needed no explanation for _where_ the object went. It looks like a slender version of the toys made glass and rainbow colored silicone that are scattered about his room. Seungmin has stared at them with curiosity on former visits.

Minho did explain to him in a velvety smooth voice. “It doesn’t hurt. Maybe it will feel weird. I kind of like it. I mean, if you want to do it.” Of course, all of this is said while Minho pumps his own cock with his free hand. Pouty full lips pulling into a firm line.

“I’ll try it,” the wand is small. It should be fine.

Minho extracts a small bottle from the many that line the shower and coats the tip of the wand with lubricant.

“What should I do?”

Minho doesn’t skip a beat, “Turn around. Spread your legs. You might feel more comfortable if you brace yourself on the wall.”

Its’ easy to swallow the fear of the unknown when you want something so badly. He’s not sure if at this point he’s doing this for himself, or for Changbin, or to impress Minho, but he knows that he wants. So, Seungmin does as he’s told. His palms are splayed wide on the glass wall, and Seungmin holds his breath.

Seungmin’s fooled around enough that he feels like he knows what he’s doing. Had no problems mussing Changbin’s hair when he sank to his knees to suck Seungmin off. Knows that Hyunjin likes to have his lips bitten until they’re redder and fuller, defying all known logic about the way that human lips work. But Minho is different.

Minho makes him feel like a stuttering virgin. Reminds him that he’s not too far away from it.

His knees knock when Minho smears more viscous lubricant that’s made to stay put, even in the shower, against his hole. He applies pressure with the pad of his finger but doesn’t push inside. Instead, Minho talks him through the whole thing, his voice husky in Seungmin’s ear, “you’re so cute Seungmin.” And “I’m going to put it in now.”

Minho is absolutely right. It doesn’t hurt. The wand is warm from the shower water, and small enough in size that it doesn’t sting.

“Ok, I’m going to turn on the water now. That might feel weird.”

Once again, Minho is right. Warm water inside of him makes his belly do flip flops and his cock twitch in confusion.

“Not too hot?” Minho asks again.

But it’s difficult for Seungmin to respond. He feels fuller with each passing second, and the sensation tugs his racing mind in opposing directions. It feels good to feel full like this without the sting that accompanies fingers or cock, but isn’t exactly satisfying either. It doesn’t curl inside of him, doesn’t hit just the right spot, just makes him feel pressure from the inside.  There is also the anxiety of the inevitable. What comes next is dirty, unclean, embarrassing. While Minho won’t judge him…

“Seungmin,” Minho all but coos into his ear as he grabs his hip and pulls him closer. His tongue flicks across the lobe of Seungmin’s ear. “How’re you doing baby?” And if it were any other situation, he’d mock Minho incessantly for the forced way that baby spills from his lips.

Now? The buzz of Minho’s voice in his ear sends shivers down his spine. He must make a noise, pathetic and strangled in response.

“I told you,” and he can feel Minho smirk against the shell of his ear. “It kind of feels good.”  When Minho decides that he’s all done, he reaches behind him and turns off the water completely, but doesn’t yet move to take the wand out of him. “Touch yourself a little.”

Seungmin does as he’s told, touching the ridge of his cock with his thumb before grabbing himself by the base. 

“Good boy.”

* * *

He likes it here, even though he knows all too well where Minho lives and what Minho does. The others come here out of necessity. They like Minho’s company, they like the food, and they love the information, but the round bed in the middle of Minho’s room and the mirror on the ceiling make them uncomfortable. For Seungmin, the high thread count sheets, rich food, and nice clothes remind him of a home that he won’t go back to willingly. So, in some ways, Minho is home.

“You did really well,” Minho coos in his ear. When Seungmin is all done, Minho reinters the bathroom covered in a blue silk robe that shows his chest and his long dancer’s legs.  He dries Seungmin off with big fluffy towels before having him sit on the low counter of the sink. Glass bottles clink against the mirror as Minho covers him in buttery lotion.

“I didn’t do anything,” Seungmin can feel a blush come to his face, hot and heavy.

“Yeah you did. Some people hate it. Some people cry.” Minho’s hands paw at his chest muscles and glide down to the v of his hips.  Reapplying more lotion, he wraps his long fingers around his flagging erection.

“Oh, fuck Minho—”

“Oh,” Minho cocks a brow at him and smiles with a devilish grin that makes him feel like he’s going to get eaten alive. “He can swear,” Minho says while rubs his palm across the tip of Seungmin’s dick and pumps down his length with a twisting motion that makes Seungmin see stars. “What else can he do?”

A few more pumps and Seungmin can tell that he’s getting close. It’s hard to keep his fingers threaded in Minho’s hair, and his grip on the edge of the counter offers him a lifeline. Just when he’s about to pop, Minho pulls back.  Playfully, Minho touches the bead of precum on Seungmin’s cock.

The sound of Minho’s soft chuckle, intended to be playful, drips down Seungmin’s spine like water droplets from his damp hair and feels heavy and ominous when it pools at the small of his back.

“Minho, please.”

His response is simple, “not yet.”

* * *

Minho interlaces their hands as if they were about to walk to the park and go on a picnic, and leads them from the bathroom into the bedroom. “Lie down on the bed for me,” Minho’s voice is light and breathy, as he casts a glance over his shoulder at Seungmin. The line of his robe is pulled down low so Seungmin can see his bare shoulder and neck, and just like that Seungmin will wait an eternity to cum if Minho asks it of him.

His skin absolutely sings with the cool burn of tea tree oil and peppermint soap. When he lies down upon the bed Seungmin can feel every fiber of the duvet as they connect to every cell in his body. He looks at himself in the mirror on the ceiling and barely recognizes the person that he sees in the reflection. His body is almost the same hue as his hair, raw salmon red, placed on a platter for Minho’s consumption. Cock so hard that the head touches his stomach, Seungmin runs his fingers down the length in wild hot desperation.

Meanwhile, he can hear the sound of wood scrape against wood as Minho opens up drawer after drawer rummaging for contents unknown to Seungmin. His voice rises up over the clink-rattle-roll of the chest being opened, “Ah- No touching Seungmin.”

“Then hurry up,” he snaps back.

Minho grants him his wish. The bed dips beside him, and he can see the crown of Minho’s head comes into view in the corner of the mirror. His robe, long discarded in a puddle on the floor.

“No peeking,” Minho orders. “Or I’ll have to blindfold you.”

“You’d like that.”

Minho doesn’t respond, at least not with words. Minho kisses him again lapping Seungmin’s lower lip and prodding against his tongue. It’s slow, and it’s sweet. It's so similar to everything that he’s already done with Minho, but it feels so different. Everything else seemed like some kind of secret, but this was the first thing that seemed real. Seemed like something he could brag about to Hyunjin or Felix.

“Hey,” the kiss ends with a sticky wet pop. Minho’s face is so close to his that he can feel his breath against his lower lip. When their noses bump together, Minho’s eyes look distorted and blurry. Minho’s voice is ragged and husked. “Can I finger you?”

* * *

Minho asks, “can I finger you?” and Seungmin says, “yes.”

He doesn’t remember saying yes, but the next thing he knows Minho’s spilling lube between his thighs and doing all sorts of things that feel absolutely amazing but bring him no closer to getting off.  Minho rubs his perineum so hard that he twists his fingers into the sheets, and swear to god he can see stars when he closes his eyes. Minho alternates these touches by cupping his balls and testing their weight in his hand and teasing him softly.

Before Seungmin can fully process what Minho’s doing to his body, he changes course again. “I want you to lay on your stomach,” and then he quickly adds, “please.”

Much like everything else Minho has asked of him, Seungmin complies.

Pressure at Seungmin’s hole easily gives way to Minho’s single digit inside of him. There’s a pattern to the way that Minho touches, slide in, pull out, side in again and crook his finger. Once again, it’s good but not enough.  And as if Minho were the god of fooling around, he answers Seungmin’s silent prayer. One finger becomes two as Minho’s middle finger catches his rim and applies pressure.

Seungmin doesn’t grimace at the intrusion, nor does his body go rigid. He feels melted into the fabric like chewing gum on the sidewalk on a hot day. There’s still _pressure_ at his hole, doesn’t exactly want anything else in him, but it’s different this time. When Minho’s fingers scissor together and apart, together and apart, he rocks into the touch. Minho’s fingers are long, and they rub that spot inside of him so good that he feels like he’s floating.

“Oh, Seungmin,” Minho breathes. “You’re so cute.”

 Seungmin’s first instinct is to argue, but what he gives Minho instead is a whimper that is too needy and desperate to be fully absorbed by the pillow in which he buries his face.

“But you are,” Minho insists. “You’re so sensitive,” and as if to reiterate his point, Minho traces his rim with the pad of his thumb.

Seungmin’s whole body jerks, and he cries out, “Minho,” but he’s not exactly sure what for.

“You just twitch over everything that I do.” Minho’s free hand traces the soft skin of his sac and the base of his cock in feather light touches that only make Seungmin gracelessly hump Minho’s duvet in frustration. “Someday, you’ll be able to cum from just this. Fingers, or toys, or—”

It’s so much, but it isn’t enough. Seungmin’s whole body burns. Minho touches that place inside of him over and over again, and it feels like he’s getting closer, but it feels like Minho’s pulling him back. Soft rubs against his walls are interrupted so that Minho can stretch him wider. He can feel the pinprick sting of teardrops forming in his eyes, and he doesn’t understand how something that feels so good can be so infuriating. Another choked pitiful sob and--- “Aren’t you going to fuck me Minho?”

“Okay, okay, okay,” Minho smooths. “One more thing. Can you do one more thing for me Seungmin?”

Seungmin believes that he whimpers something like “Uh-huh.”  

What he believed was that he wanted to move forward. So…Why was the feeling of Minho’s fingers leaving him so much worse than being teased? Two fingers stretching him tight becomes one, and then he’s empty again. “You’re awful at this,” it’s supposed to come out light hearted and teasing, but the words become disjointed, almost pitiful whimpers on Seungmin’s tongue.

“I’m not finished yet.” Minho reaches back behind him and then tickles his ear with his lips. “Stop hiding from me.”

Seungmin obeys, extracting his face from the pillow. Inches from his face, Minho holds a small toy in his hand. A blue glass plug with a flared base, it’s larger than Minho’s fingers, but not so much bigger that fear tugs at his belly.

“Can I put this inside?”

Seungmin can feel his heart beating in his ears. Minho’s not going to settle in between his legs and push his cock inside of him just yet. Maybe that’s annoying. Maybe that’s fine. It’s probably both, so he responds to Minho, “Yes.”

The tip goes inside of him easily, catches his rim halfway down. The toy feels so much bigger than it looks, and he’s not sure he could do it if it weren’t for the constant hum of, “pretty Seungmin,” breathed into his ear. And then, it’s like nothing at all. He feels full again, and he feels it rub up just against the spot that Minho touched so incessantly. The sting is there, but the pressure is gone.  

“Turn over?”

Seungmin does as he’s told because what else can he do other than listen to the timbre of Minho’s voice and pray that he doesn’t lead him astray.

Minho’s oozes sex appeal, but when Seungmin turns over, Minho looks anything but sexy. His smile is so wide that it encroaches on the rest of his face, scrunching up his nose and his eyes, and making everything else look smaller. When they readjust Seungmin can feel Minho’s cock, hard and leaking precum pressed against his thigh.

“You're so good at this Seungmin,” Minho purrs into his ear. 

In that moment, Seungmin feels powerless, pinned to the bed by something warm and something kind. All he can do is thread his fingers in Minho’s hair and demand a kiss.

* * *

Minho really should stop toying with him. Minho knows he makes Seungmin lie in a damp spot of his own precum on the duvet. The tip of Seungmin’s cock is aching red and fluid pools at the tip and leaks onto his stomach, as if a faucet had been turned  on.

Seungmin expects him to fuck him now. Take the plug out and slide his cock in.

Seungmin expects it, but Minho knows that’s not what he needs. “I brought you more gifts too,” Minho pulls several pairs of underwear, extracted from his chest of drawers, from the night stand and rests them on the duvet where Seungmin can see. “You should try something on, so you have something nice to wear for your date,” and even though he’s under no false pretenses, just saying it now that he’s got Seungmin like this, tugs at his heart.

“Minho, I’m not putting more clothes on.”

“Try it.”

Seungmin whines something that sounds like a disgruntled, “no,” into Minho’s neck. Seungmin latches onto his neck and tries to change course by sucking on his neck and the lobes of his ear, but Minho will not be deterred. He’s been so good so far, and his student must complete the lesson.

“Put them on, and I’l make sure you cum,” he’s testing his luck, but Minho is selfish.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Seungmin’s hands dart for the pair closest to him, black lace. But, Minho interjects, “I think you’d look best in this one.”

Minho doesn’t even make him get out of bed. Instead, he helps Seungmin into a pair of cyan blue lace panties. Because Seungmin is the sun, Minho finds this pair especially appropriate, as a small yellow satin bow rests just above his belly button. 

“Look at yourself,” Minho splays his palm wide across Seungmin’s chest and presses him back down onto the bed. He should stop teasing, just rip the panties down again and jump on his cock. But now that he has him? Well, Minho wants to keep him here for as long as possible.

He traces down Seungmin’s chest, circling his nipples until Seungmin’s arching off the bed from the simple touch. Then, he traces down Seungmin’s chest, and touches the bulge of cock again, this time over the thin lace of the panties. They’re already wet, and he’s going to have to find another pair for Seungmin if he really does want to wear them on his date, but it doesn’t matter.

Seungmin’s bright eyes stay glued to the mirror on his ceiling.

Minho finds it quite nice to watch Seungmin watch himself with wide eyes and as slack jaw. “God, you’re so pretty Seungmin,” and right now, Seungmin’s too worked up to feel embarrassed. “What’s my pretty boy going to do tonight? On his date?”

“Get-“ Seungmin stammers, whether in embarrassment or frustration, Minho will never know. “Get-fucked.”

“By who?”

“Changbin.”

Minho prods further, dipping his fingertips beneath the waistband, touching the head of Seungmin’s cock, and then reverting back to touching him over lace. “Changbin’s gonna fuck you huh?”

“Yeah,” Seungmin interrupts himself, “God, please Minho.”

“Hm? What were you saying?”

“I said, that Changbin’s going to fuck me,” Seungmin says through gritted teeth. Anyone else would’ve pushed him over by now and had their way with Minho for all that he’s put Seungmin through. But Seungmin is Seungmin, and so he holds on with gentle, tentative fingers.

“Then Changbin’s a very lucky boy.”

And just like that, it’s over. Seungmin deserves the world and more, but all Minho can do is pull down his lace panties.

Minho had three clients last night. Minho cleaned himself this morning, just before Seungmin knocked on his door. Because of this, it doesn’t take much effort at all when Minho finally climbs on top of Seungmin and straddles him, just a little more lube on Seungmin’s cock.

Seungmin expects him to fuck him now. Take the plug out and slide his cock in.

Seungmin expects it, but Minho knows that’s not what he needs.

Minho sinks down upon Seungmin’s cock slowly to Seungmin’s drunken slur of, “Oh, Minho,” and the cheeky hiss of, “finally.”

Only then does Minho realize that he’s needed this too. He’s just as hard as Seungmin, but when he’s with them? He doesn’t cocktail to relax. Doesn’t need any of the little pills he keeps in a jar by his makeup. It’s real, and it feels so good to give.

“But I wasn’t expecting this,” Seungmin’s voice is shaky, like the very act of Minho straddling him knocked the wind out of him.  

“Seungmin, I want to keep you guessing, always.” Minho watches the way Seungmin’s stomach flutters, and the way that he clenches his jaw tight. Minho lifts up ever so slightly upon his cock, “Seungmin, baby,” pet names are habit at this point, but it feels right with Seungmin. “Don’t worry about holding back. Okay?” Minho’s put him through the ringer, the boy deserves cum right away.

Seungmin responds with his body, canting his hips upward into Minho, and so Minho returns in kind. Riding Seungmin now earnestly and without abandon, Minho rises and sinks himself downward onto  Seungmin’s cock over and over again.

Minho’s constant cries of, “Seungmin,” are no longer a part of a grand lesson or scheme. They’re genuine, to the point of being guttural. Intimate, to the point of being vulnerable.

Sometimes Seungmin and Minho’s eyes lock together, and Minho’s held into place by Seungmin’s intense gaze, and trapped between his eyelashes. Other times, on the downstroke, Seungmin screws his eyes shut, and purses his lips together.  When he opens his eyes again, Seungmin’s gaze drifts upward, and he watches them shamelessly in the mirror upon the ceiling.

Minho leans down to kiss him, because he’s just so sweet, and in no time at all Minho can feel Seungmin cum deep inside of him.

But ever a gentleman, Seungmin wastes no time in wrapping his hand around Minho’s cock and pumping him until he’s spilling all over Seungmin’s stomach, further ruining the pretty lace panties Minho so carefully selected for him.

* * *

Minho sends Seungmin on his way with everything he needs for his date tonight. His uniform jacket is ironed, a loaf of crusty bread is tucked up under his arm. There are three pairs of lace panties in his satchel, and Minho gives instructions to take the plug out of his ass no sooner than getting back to base.

Okay, the last part, is definitely more for himself than it is for Seungmin, because there’s something so satisfying about Seungmin thinking of him all the way home.

“Good luck tonight,” Minho says as their lips part with a smack.

It always happens this way when he’s annoyed that they’ve come. They tug at his heartstrings and make it so that the world is bathed in the mother of pearl shade of melancholy. Everything is softer, becase their world is a little bit kinder. When it’s time to go, he doesn’t want them to leave, but he always chooses to stay.  

Seungmin smiles at him, laughs, and says what he believes to be a joke, but Minho believes to be true. “You’re my good luck charm Minho.”

* * *

Minho wakes at dusk, the purple of night already casting strange shadows in his room. The bedroom is stifling hot, and he’s going to need to turn on the air conditioner soon.

Slow to rise, Minho buries his face in the pillow upon his bed. It smells of his own soap, rosemary and tea tree oil, but when it’s comingled with Seungmin’s natural scent sweat and skin, it becomes something worth waking up to.

As if on cue, Minho’s phone buzzes underneath the pillows. Once it’s uncovered from underneath the blankets, he finds that it’s an listed number, no doubt one of Changbin’s many burner phones. The text simply reads, “I don’t know if I should punch you in the face, or kiss you the next time that I see you.”

Minho considers for a moment, responding to Changbin. Say something like “Next time, I won’t let him leave.” Keep him hidden in the upper floor, and let the girls spoil him rotten.

As much as he loves to tease all of them Minho doesn’t respond, only surrenders his phone back into the ocean of blankets. After all, his awful night turned into such a better day. He’d hate to spoil it.  

**Author's Note:**

> Someday, I'll write a follow up where Changbin sees the panties. So subscribe if you want.


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